


These sins will lead you home

by jdalex



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Hate Sex, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdalex/pseuds/jdalex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Niall are Polo players and Liam is Harry's new roommate with a boyfriend back in England. Things get messy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These sins will lead you home

**Author's Note:**

> Huge massive thank you, thank you, thank you to Rina for everything she does for me <3333.
> 
> Also, if you have no idea what Polo entails I'm going to suggest you check [this](http://www.polo101.com/about-polo/polo-glossary.html) out for a quick overview. Of course, you don't have to, I can't control your life choices.
> 
>  

The sun’s warm on Harry’s shoulders, he can feel the fabric of his shirt sticking to his sweaty skin. Max’s coat is dark around where the breast collar rests against his chest and shoulders and Harry knows he’s absolutely soaked under his riding blanket. He’ll probably wind up giving Max a bath and joining in, cold water sounds like heaven after almost five hours of practice in this heat. 

“Harry!” Niall shouts from off to his left, polo ball rolling along with Caesar’s hooves as he canters, keeping pace with the object. Niall swings his mallet, a loud crack follows as it connects to the ball and Harry directs Max alongside the ball before swinging his own mallet and sending the ball into the goal.  
  
It’s almost second nature by now, Polo. He’s been riding since he could walk, hell, his first memory is on the back of a horse. He can thank his mum for that. She’d been an adamant horse enthusiast her whole life and was pointedly determined to make sure that obsession passed on to at least one of her children.  
  
It had skipped over his older sister Gemma and latched directly onto Harry.  
  
He’d ridden all through school, and as a result wound up gaining a scholarship to Cornell University. _What a life,_ he thinks, _to be paid to go school because you’re good at something you love_.  
  
Coach Beck blows the whistle, finally signaling the end of practice and Harry immediately reaches under Max’s neck to loosen the martingale. He understands the importance of the equipment, of course he does, he will just never be a fan of that particular strap. Max shakes out his head in response, his movement much more free now and on his own, he starts heading towards the barn.  
  
Niall trots Caesar up next to him and he’s already discarded his shirt. “Blazing out today, holy balls.”  
  
“No shit, thinking I’ll hop under the hose with Max when I wash him down.”  
  
“That,” Niall says, pulling the velcro of his glove loose with his teeth, “is a great idea.”

Harry stays true to his word, hosing Max off while occasionally pointing the head of the hose vertical and setting his thumb in front of the water pressure. It’s sweet relief from the unusually hot August air. He’s soaked to the bone by the time he’s dried Max off and put him in his stall for the night. Niall’s equally as wet when he finds Harry at his car just a few minutes later.

“Couldn’t resist my idea huh?”

“Nah, way too tempting.” Niall laughs and they both strip down to their underwear before getting in Harry’s car. It’s already a pile of shit so he isn’t even the least bit worried about wet seats. Rage is on the radio when the car rumbles to life and Niall leans over to fiddle with the knobs, turning the music up loud and rolling down his window because of course Harry’s car would pick the hottest month they’ve had all year for the air conditioner to crap out. It’s a quick drive back to campus, the equestrian center’s only ten miles away and when Harry shifts his Buick into park, Niall looks over at him and busts out laughing.

“What?” Harry asks, eyebrows scrunched together

“We’re both damn near starkers. What you think Ed’s gonna say when he sees us.”

Harry scoffs, “S’not like we haven’t stumbled back to the dorms three sheets to wind in the same state.”

“Yes but this time we’re sober and wet.”

Harry simply shrugs before opening his car door, “Don’t know, blame it on the ponies.”

Ed’s room is right next to the entrance and as soon Harry slides in his key and the door clicks open he looks over. Ed’s door is open, always is, something in the RA contract he thinks and sure enough, Ed’s got his feet propped up on his desk, a book in his lap and glasses sitting low on his nose. He looks up when he sees movement. Confusion crosses his face before he raises a questioning eyebrow and finally doubles over in laughter when Niall comes up next to Harry looking in the same state.

“What the hell have you two gotten yourselves into?”

Harry is positive that he couldn’t have dreamed up a better RA. He shrugs at Ed’s question, a smile twitching on his lips before saying, “Blame it on the ponies.”

Realization clicks over quickly onto Ed’s features and he nods, still smiling, “Alright be gone you heathens, got a big exam I need to be studying for.”

Niall bats his eyelashes, swooning dramatically, “You mean you won’t write us up Mr. Sheeran? Oh you beautiful, lovely man.”

“No, but if you call me Mr. Sheeran again I will.”

There is no doubt in Harry’s mind that Ed isn’t kidding.

Niall salutes him before the two of them head for the stairwell.

“Hey, don’t you meet your new roomie today?”

 _Oh_ , “Yeah, I’d forgotten about that.”

Harry’s old roommate, Will, had dropped his course load and applied to a new college. He’d left last week and Harry had completely forgotten that today at noon a new person from the overflow would be moving in with him. It was well past four now so more than likely, this person would already be totally moved in and well, at least Harry didn’t have to be a appear to be a gentleman and waste his time with heavy boxes in the blasted heat.

“I’m gonna set some first impression eh? Wet, sweaty and smelling like horse.”

“As if you don’t come back from _every_ practice like that, he’ll have to get used to it one way or the other.”

They stop in front of Harry’s door and now instead of saying **Room 237 Harry & Will** it says **Room 237 Harry & Liam**.

“Cross your fingers and pray to a pint that the Roommate Gods haven’t made this Liam guy some Satanist prick.” Harry says, but quietly, because this building is old and these walls can’t sound proof a mouse fart.

Niall makes a show of crossing all this fingers before crossing his legs as well. He almost lands on his arse because of it. “Right, well if he’s horrible you can come complain to Zayn and me later. And if he’s brilliant, you can bring him along.”

Niall gives him a thumbs up before heading back to the stairwell and up to the fourth floor. Harry takes a deep a breath before slotting his room key in the lock and slowly stepping inside. This new fellow, Liam, is perched on his bed with his computer and he looks up as soon as Harry opens the door. Harry smiles sheepishly, suddenly really wishing he wasn’t half naked.

“Hi I’m… Liam.” Liam rushes before he gets a good look at Harry and Harry can practically feel the confusion rolling off him in waves, doe brown eyes all crinkled.

“Hi, I’m Harry, I play Polo here and it’s hot as hell outside and when I washed my horse down I figured I’d jump under the hose as well. I don’t usually come back half naked, I do however, usually come back smelling like horse so I hope you’re not allergic.”

Liam’s confusion ebbs away from his eyes and soft smile begins to turn up his lips as Harry rambles on a tangent. “You’re from England.”

Harry stops, “… So are you.”

“Wolverhampton.”

“Cheshire.”

Liam’s still smiling at him like he’s known Harry his whole life and Harry starts fiddling with the wet bundle of clothes in his hands. “I um, gonna shower, clean up.”

“Course,” Liam says, bouncing a bit.

Harry throws his wet, sweaty clothes into his hamper and briefly thinks how he’ll have to wash clothes before Monday. He dips his thumb under the elastic of his underwear before freezing. He usually just heads to the showers naked, it’s an all male dorm and even if there’s an occasional female hanging around, he’s never been shy. But now, with Liam’s presence making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, he can’t really bring himself to strip down.

He sniffs, shaking his hair out before ignoring the weird feeling in the pit of this stomach. He grabs clean clothes instead and picks up his shower caddy before giving Liam a friendly nod and heading to the bathrooms.

Harry gets back to the room, much less naked with a pair of sweats on and his favorite Beatles shirt and Liam’s exactly where Harry left him, perched on his bed, laptop sat in front of him.

“So, what brought you to Ithaca?” Harry asks, flopping down on his bed and propping his head up on his elbow.

“Well, I’ve wanted to come to New York since I was kid, but New York City was… to say the least, intimidating. And Cornell is great, offers things I was really looking for.”

“What are you studying?”

“Architecture, you?”

“Biological Engineering.”

“Impressive.”

Harry laughs, “It’s not as impressive as it sounds.”

“So, what brought _you_ to Ithaca?”

“Full ride for playing Polo, I couldn’t really turn that down.”

“Okay now that is impressive.”

Harry blushes slightly, he’s a modest person in every aspect of his life. Well, every aspect except Polo. He knows he’s good, he knows he’s good with horses, and yeah, he likes when people acknowledge that fact. “Thanks.”

His phone buzzes on his nightstand and he stretches out for it to see a text from Niall.

_Hows the roomie?_

He doesn’t really know how to reply right away because he barely knows Liam. But from what he does know he likes, he seems like a great lad and Harry already likes him more than he normally would just because he’s from the UK.

He sends Niall back a _goooood_ the extra o’s to emphasize that things really are going good.

_Going out 2nite, bring him._

“Um,” he starts, looking up and seeing Liam pull his attention away from his laptop, “I’m going out with my friends tonight, you should join us.”

“Oh,” Liam says, flushing a bit as he fiddles with his fingernails, “I’d really love to and it’s so nice of you to invite me when we’ve only just meet but… well you see I’m skyping with my – uh my boyfriend tonight.”

It takes Harry a second to catch that and honestly he’s a bit surprised because he’s pegged himself as somewhat of a sexuality psychic. He reads people easily, picks up on small usually forgotten manners and details. Hell, he figured out Niall and Zayn had a thing for each other before they did. And it’s not that Harry’s weirded out by that because his sexuality is about as fluid as the bottle of water sitting on his nightstand, or is that vodka?  He can’t remember. He’s just a bit frustrated with himself for not seeing it in Liam.

“Oh cool,” he manages to say, and then spills, “I’m pansexual.” Because apparently he can’t filter his thoughts for shit, “I mean, you know, just so you know, no weird vibes from my end.”

Liam looks fond again, smiling brightly with all his teeth, “Cool.”

They spend the next couple of hours getting to know each other. Harry finds out Liam has two sisters, one of which is still back in the UK and one of which is in Boston, his favorite animal is the turtle, and has got plans for at least five tattoos. In return, Liam now knows that Harry’s got one older sister, has been riding horse since before he could walk and his favorite color is green. Louis, is Liam’s boyfriend, Harry finds out, they’ve been together for little over a year and is living in London.

“Isn’t it hard?”

Liam chuckles, “Of course it’s hard, hardest thing I’ve ever done, but he’s got commitments back in England and this is my dream, he said he couldn’t let me pass it up.” Liam’s smile hasn’t faded but the expression on his face tugs at Harry’s emotions because, really, Liam is an open book and it doesn’t take a genius to read the devastated look on his face.

“I’m sorry.” Harry whispers, feeling sympathetic.

Liam just shakes his head, “No need for you to be sorry.”

Harry’s phone buzzes next to him on the bed again. It’s a text from Niall, Harry’s been ignoring him for the past few hours. It’d be rude for him to have all his attention on his phone when he’s talking to Liam after all. Besides, eventually Niall will just get fed up, drag Zayn down here before yanking Harry out of his room and forcing him to accompany the two of them to whatever house address has been spread all over campus.

Sure enough, not even fifteen minutes later and Niall’s swinging the door open, Zayn hanging back in the hallway with a smirk on his face. “You’ve been ignoring me ya cunt.”

“Yes, I’ve been talking to Liam, I’ve never talked to him before. You though, I’ve talked to you plenty. Now Niall, be polite and introduce yourself to Liam.”

“Hey mate, Niall.”

“Liam, nice to meet you.”

“Oi, you didn’t tell me he was English, what’re the odds?”

Harry ignores Niall’s question, “And that guy out the hallway is Zayn, Niall’s boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Liam says, sharing a small smile with Harry, “Nice to meet you Zayn.” Liam says, waving to him.

Zayn smiles and nods.

“Alright, we needa go, you coming Liam?”

“Oh, no, no, staying in tonight.”

Niall’s satisfied with that answer, grabbing at Harry and hauling him off his bed, “Come on Hazza, let’s roll, I can hear pints calling my name as we speak.”

Harry slips into some jeans quickly, Niall and Zayn waiting for him outside the door. “You sure you don’t want to come, I promise I’m not just being nice, it’d be fun.” He asks Liam again as he heads towards the door.

“No, I mean I would, it’s just, you know, it’s like – date night.”

Harry gives him an understanding smile, “No problem, next time?”

Liam smiles, “Next time.”

+

This house party is packed, it’s like an ocean of bodies all pushing and pulling in some sort of drunken synchronicity. It’s about twenty degrees warmer in the house than it is outside and that’s really not helping Harry’s cause. He’s sweating through his shirt, which is now see-through. Niall’s already pointed out more than once tonight that Harry should ‘put his tits away.’

This brunette’s been sticking to his side all night, which he doesn’t understand because he’s got to stink. He _feels_ like he stinks. She’s cute, smells incredible despite the circumstances but for some reason, Harry doesn’t have the energy to pull her tonight. Besides, what’s he supposed to do? Bring her back to his room with his brand new roommate in his bed three feet away?

The only bonus of the heat and all the people, he drinks faster. Properly drunk in record time but he’s bored. Niall and Zayn are trying to be discreet, rutting against each other in a side corner and that leaves Harry alone.

He winds up kissing the cute brunette, Jade, before whispering promises of seeing her around campus sometime. He snakes her number in messy lipstick before sending a text to Niall to tell him he’s gotten a cab and is heading back to the dorms.

He’s almost to his room when Niall texts back.

_Ya fukeeer ya ddint cum say by._

He laughs, a bit loud and bit long because it’s really not that funny but he’s drunk, and then fishes out his key before letting himself back inside. The room’s dark but the tv’s on and he can see Liam’s figure on his bed, covers strewn about his waist.

“Oh, Hi Harry.”

Harry shuts the door quietly behind him, “You okay Liam?” He knows Liam was trying to hide it, trying to cover the fact he’d been crying but Harry can tell and he wants to be Liam’s friend, wants to be a shoulder to cry on if he needs it.

He pulls his shirt off, he’d dried off on the cab ride home thanks to the air conditioning but the shirts definitely ruined until next wash. He fits himself on the end of Liam’s bed, and drops his hands in his lap. The tv flashes light across Liam’s face and he can see how red and puffy Liam’s eyes are.

“Hey,” he coos, reaching forward and cupping Liam’s hand in his, “What’s happened?”

Liam sniffs, making a point of not looking Harry in the eyes before mumbling, “S’nothing, s’stupid.”

“No, come on now. Tell your new best friend Hazza what’s happened that’s made you cry. I’ll use my superpowers as best I can to fix it.”

Liam laughs wetly, “Superpowers?”

Harry hums, “My cuddles will chase every sad and unhappy thought away in minutes, s’my specialty.”

Liam goes shy suddenly, biting at his lip and using his hand, the one that’s not currently cradled in Harry’s hands, to wipe away the wet tracks of tears on his cheeks. “Can I have a cuddle?” he asks, voice soft and cautious like Harry didn’t just offer.

“Of course.”

Liam shifts, making as much room as possible for Harry on the single bed. Harry slots himself against Liam’s back, buries his head in the back of Liam’s neck, because he’s still a bit drunk, and wraps his arms around Liam’s torso. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just miss him.” Liam confesses, fiddling with Harry’s fingers.

“That’s not nothing. That’s a big something, that’s something that would upset anyone in your position.” Harry nibbles on the inside of his cheek, trying to find the right words through the haze of whiskey that’s still fogging his mind. “I know I’m not him and there really isn’t anything I can do to make you miss him less but I can be here, so you know you’re not alone.”

Liam’s still sniffling but he nods, pushing back against Harry’s embrace, “Thank you Harry.”

Harry squeezes him in response, bending his knees and fitting them behind where Liam’s knees are bent. They’re quiet for a while, letting the buzz of the tv fill the room and Liam’s breathing evens out eventually. Harry’s dancing on that fine line of sleep and alertness when Liam starts laughing, it jolts Harry awake and he leans up so he can look over Liam’s shoulder and see his face.

“What?” He asks stupidly, completely dumbfounded as to why Liam would burst out laughing for no apparent reason.

“First night as roommates and I’ve already gotten you into bed with me.” Liam says through snickers and Harry starts smiling, lets it stretch across his lips before he succumbs to his own fit of giggles and cuddles back into Liam.

He and Liam both fall asleep with smiles on their faces.

+

It’s so easy after that, Liam slips in with the three of them as if he was a puzzle piece they didn’t know was missing. He and Zayn click well, spending afternoons together when Niall and Harry are at practice. They’ll sit together during matches as well, holding signs (because Liam’s instant) and supporting Niall and Harry. It’s nice, because Harry likes Liam, and whether he did or not he’d be seeing a lot of him and it’s just great that his roommate and his friends are getting along. Liam’s more of a friend though now, he’s not just a roommate. He’s growing closer to Harry every day and Harry’s never been more thankful that Will left.

It’s a quiet Thursday evening when Harry gets back to his dorm room after his last class of the day. Liam’s at his desk, mucking around on facebook, pretending to do homework and Harry heads over to his closet, ditching his jeans for a pair of jogging bottoms.

“So Ed’s having poker night and you’re invited.”

“Our RA Ed?”

“I’m sure he’s not the only Ed on campus but he’s the only Ed I know so yes, the RA Ed.”

“Oh… well I’m not very good at poker. I don’t even really understand the game.”

“I’ll teach you, besides it’s usually more of a drink-whiskey-and-maybe-smoke-a-cigar-and-snicker-because-it’s-a-dry-campus-but-he’s-our-RA-so-we-don’t-have-to-worry kind of night, doesn’t really matter that you can’t play.”

“Yeah?” Liam asks, eyes sparkling.

“Yes, they want you to come, _I_ want you to come.”

As it turns out, Liam wasn’t kidding when he said he can’t play. He’s lost every round so far but he’s a good sport, Harry just makes sure his glass is never empty and he _may_ start throwing some hands himself because he feels bad because someone as nice and friendly and fun as Liam shouldn’t have to deal with losing every deal.

Zayn catches onto Harry quickly and starts throwing his own hands and before he knows it, it becomes a game of who can lose the most Monopoly money (they’re college students, between the five of them they only have $5.42 in change).

“Just so you know,” Ed says as he blows smoke out towards the open window, “If you lose the match to Yale I’m shaving your head in your sleep.”

Harry’s heart stutters, “You wouldn’t.”

Ed nods, “You know I have the master key, I’m not bluffing Styles.”

“And what if Niall blows the match?” He’s interrupted slightly by Niall’s offended yell of _Hey,_ “You still gonna shave my head then?”

“No, I’ll shave his.”

Harry thinks for second before nodding and grabbing his glass, “Fair enough.”

+

Harry’s head is a little fuzzy when he and Liam make it back to their room a few hours later. He sinks into his bed, wrapping himself up in his covers and lets the drone of the fan clear his head. Liam’s shuffling around across from him, tossing and turning and _sighing_ and Harry’s got practice in the morning, not too early but he’d like to get the most amount of sleep possible before Niall drags him out of bed and forces him to drive them to the barn.

Liam sniffs, louder than necessary and Harry _knows_ he’s trying to get Harry’s attention and he kind of wishes Liam would just stop beating around the bush. A bush that consists of about 80% Louis related topics. Reach a hand in and you’re almost guaranteed to pull out a tanned (which _how?_ You’re from England not the Virgin Islands, how are you always that golden?), perfectly flipped hair, blued eyed bloke and win the sniffly Liam.

“Yes Liam?” He concedes, rolling onto to his side to watch as Liam rolls to face him.

“I miss him.” _Ding, ding, Harry’s won the prize._

He resents himself a little for being such a push-over. But Liam smells good and he’s a great cuddler so Harry simply shifts himself back against the wall and pulls the covers back invitingly. Liam gets the hint, throwing off his own blankets and stumbles over to Harry’s bed. It’s different this time (since their first night together this has become almost a weekly thing) because instead of spooning, Liam buries his head in Harry’s neck, wraps his arms around Harry’s waist and tangles their legs together.

Harry’s eyes are wide and his hand is kind of awkwardly hovering over Liam’s shoulder because… what? He wants to say something but Liam starts humming, whispering something that sounds like _you’re the best roomie ever_ and Harry’s a goner.

His frame sinks back into the mattress and his hand dances over Liam’s taut muscled skin, ignoring the insistent flutter in his stomach that says this is where he’s wanted to be his whole life.

Their steady breathing and body heat is better than any murmured ‘goodnight’.

+

The thing is, they still have over a month until the game against Yale. But it’s the only thing anyone on the team can talk about because it’s _the_ game of the season. The Yale team still has their heads up their arses from the win last season but Harry’s dead set on not letting that happen again. It’s like this every year, even before he came to Cornell, he knows the history, knows the rivalry, knows how important it is for bragging rights.

He chews on his fingernail as he looks at Yale’s polo website.

_Yale Polo is the oldest and most successful collegiate polo team in the United States._

He’s alone in his room, perched on his bed with his computer, but that doesn’t stop him from making an act of gagging. _Smug bastards_ , he thinks to himself as he looks at the roster, there are quite a few familiar faces and he’d like to send them all off the field crying into their helmets.

“What are you staring at? You look like you might pop a blood vessel.”

Harry’s head snaps up, he hadn’t even heard Liam come in. “Oh, just checking out Yale’s team.”

“That game’s like a month away, shouldn’t you be more worried about the series against Connecticut? That’s next week.”

“Yes I know that, but the Yale match is important.”

“And… the Connecticut one isn’t?”

Harry huffs, “Liam, this is the Yale match we’re talking about it, it’s the biggest match of the year, bar none.”

“Yes, but Yale isn’t even in our conference, beating them isn’t going to gain anything.”

Harry lets his head fall back against the wall, “Can you just except that it’s important please?” He’s in no mood to bicker over polo matches.

“Fine, I just think you seem a little too obsessed with that particular game.”

_And I just think you seem a little too obsessed with your boyfriend._

+

Harry’s not sure when it happened, how, or even why but as the days pass he becomes more and more irritated with the life of Liam’s relationship. Liam feels sort of like a pathetic ghoul lurking around the house, moping about being dead. Except this ghoul has pink pouty lips and sad ‘kicked puppy’ eyes.

“He’s driving me mental.” Harry grunts, face down on Niall’s bed as Niall sits at his computer desk and although Harry can’t see him, he can feel his judgmental gaze on the back of his neck.

“So… he’s buggin’ ya cause he misses his boyfriend?”

This is his chance, Niall’s giving him an out, just say ‘no’ and not win the award for world’s douchiest roommate. He merely groans because he doesn’t understand why this is bugging him, Niall and Zayn don’t make him want to rip his eyeballs out.

“Ya sure you don’t just have your panties in bunch because _you_ want to be his boyfriend?”

Harry pushes himself up off the pillow and glares at Niall, eyebrows furrowed, “What? Of course not. He’s just sad all the time, frowning and crying and he looks like a kicked puppy when he cries, did you know? It’s driving me insane, I think I’m getting second hand depression from being around him all the time.”

“I think you need to get laid.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“M’serious, you’ve been crabby as shit lately and the fact that you’re pissy at Liam for missing his boyfriend is the cherry on the pissy sundae. Go find something to put your cock in or take a long shower.”

Harry picks up the pillow he’d been suffocating himself with and throws at Niall before grumbling and stomping out of Niall’s room to the soundtrack of Niall’s laughter. His mind wanders a bit as he makes his way to back to his room. All right, so he hasn’t had sex since Liam showed up, he’s also spent considerably less amount of time with himself as well but he’s busy and it’s damn near impossible to tug one out without waking your roommate who’s three feet away.

He can feel his cock thickening up against his thigh, heat swirling in the pit of his stomach and he locks the door behind himself when he gets to his room. Liam’s in class for another hour he knows and his cock twitches in interest as he practically trips over himself to get to his bed fast enough.

He’s desperate already, hands shaking as he fumbles to get out of his jeans. He shucks his shirt quickly after and glances down his body, cock fully hard and pushing the fabric of his underwear away from his body.

He whines when he finally gets a hand around himself, stomach jumping in anticipation. It’s quick and rough and over too soon and he feels like he can’t stop his thighs from shaking as he comes down, mind slowly clearing. The tension drains from his muscles and he melts into his mattress, stretching out his long limbs and he only finally moves when the pool of come on his stomach is cold and uncomfortable.

He thinks for a second about thanking Niall for the suggestion but that would mean admitting that Niall was right and that’s just a road Harry’s never really liked going down. He’s relaxed and easy going the rest of the night, like he normally is, finally finding balance after being wound too tight for too long.

Well that is until Liam starts pouting/whining/crying about how he won’t be able to see Louis over Christmas break.

Fuck.

+

Harry’s not even sure why he bothered to set an alarm clock the day of the match against Yale. He wakes up every hour on the hour until five a.m. and shuts the clock off before it even has the chance to beep twice. He looks over at Liam, who has his back to him, and honestly he wouldn’t be surprised if Liam didn’t even come to the game. They’d been at odds now for a while and Harry knows it’s his fault but there’s something in the back of his mind that he can’t shake, something about Louis, something Liam and Louis, that’s throwing him off, settling uneasily in his stomach.

He dresses quickly before grabbing his ipod off the docking station and heading out, making sure to close the door quietly behind him.

Niall’s at the main entrance when Harry gets there, bundled up for the crisp November air and fiddling with his arm band. It’s become a tradition, Harry’s not sure why, but it all started when they’d bumped into each other the morning of their very first match either them had played at Cornell. Niall had shrugged his shoulders and Harry had nodded and that was that.

They run together the morning of every match now.

It’s quiet on campus, barely five on a Saturday and it’s not hard to guess why. They’re silent as they run, lost in their own thoughts and music.

There are pamphlets all over the buildings and doors, some on tree trunks. A few of them advertising a huge debate that was last night, others that remind students of the football game against Dartmouth this afternoon and then Harry picks out a few talking about the polo match.

Anticipation runs heavy in his thoughts and the rest of the morning seems like a blur, the rest of the run, his shower and getting ready, driving to the barn. It’s as if time sped up and now he’s looking at just a half hour before the starting whistle blows.

Max is tight underneath, frothing at the bit already and prancing, begging Harry to give him his head and let him run. He talks about nonsense with a steady hand on Max’s shoulder, keeps his voice calm to try and steady the anxious ball of energy that’s currently his horse. Off to his right he can hear Niall cussing under his breath as Caesar snorts and starts pawing at the dirt, the rest of his team in almost the same state with their horses.

The thing is, in every polo match Harry’s ever played, his mind is always the same. Time slows down and speeds up all at once, he and Max sync up as if they’re one, working and moving together as needed, flowing, floating. He can’t think about blocking or stealing because he’s already done it, body moving and working and his mind is left on the back burner.

It’s as though pictures are being flashed in front of him and in what feels like the blink of an eye, the match is over. People are cheering and laughing and shouting and Niall’s damn near in Harry’s saddle with him because they’ve won. They’ve _won_. Harry’s in awe as he stares the scoreboard, 17-15, and he’s smiling and laughing and there are more people here than he’d expected.

Someone’s pulling at him suddenly, dislodging him off his saddle and then there’s more hands and “Hey! Stop! I have to take care of Max before you lot carry me off.”

“Oi come on Harry,” Josh whines in his ear and there’s a series of agreeable sounds around him, “You just won the biggest match of the year, have someone else take care of your horse.”

“No, nope,” He rolls his shoulders, pushing away the hands and reaching for Max’s bridle, “He won this game just as much as the rest of us did and he deserves to be treated like a winner.” There’s grumbling now but he ignores it, unclips the martingale and heads Max towards the wash stall. Niall leads Caesar up next to him almost instantly and Harry smiles. There are a few other team members inside the stall area but for the most part it’s just the workers washing and grooming the polo ponies that just played their hearts out.

“Fucking wankers,” Niall mumbles, “throwing their horses off to the side for some attention and acting as if they were the one that did all work, that the thousand pound animal underneath ‘em had nothing to do with it.”

Harry spends extra time grooming Max this time, sneaking him more carrots than he regularly would but he figures he deserves it. Niall’s whistling in the next stall down, spending just as much time on Caesar as Harry is on Max.

Footsteps echo down the empty barn aisle, Harry and Niall are two of the few people left and when Harry feels eyes on the back of his head he turns to see Zayn smiling at him.

“You two and your horses.” He says, smiling fondly and Harry smiles back.

His fingers twitch against Max’s neck where he’d been petting him as he dares ask, “Hey, uh, did Liam come to the game?”

 “Yeah, he took off back to campus though, figured I’d just ride back with the two of you?”

Harry nods, ignoring the sour feeling of bitterness that’s hanging in the back of his mind. Zayn gives him another smile before walking over to where Niall is.

Max nickers softly, nuzzling into Harry’s neck and Harry laughs when Max mouths at his ear. “You pest, I’ve already given you more carrots than normal you think you need more?”

Max snorts, pushing his muzzle into Harry’s neck and he caves easily, “Alright, one more just because I love you.”

The overly animated sound of a phone camera goes off and Niall and Zayn are cooing, “It was such a perfect Kodak moment I couldn’t resist.” Niall says, stretching his arm out and handing Harry a carrot. Max nips at his fingers and devours the treat in seconds. Harry rubs at Max’s forehead before giving him a quick kiss and shutting him in his stall.

There’s mindless chatter between the three of them as Harry drives back to campus, his thumbs drumming on the wheel in tune with the bass of some nameless song on the radio. He shuffles back to his room once they’re back at the dorms, leaving the love birds to have sex, no doubt, and he promises to call them later after he’s taken a nap. Niall’s already been talking about this house party just down the road and Harry knows he’s no choice but to tag along.

Liam’s digging around in his closet when Harry opens the door. Harry offers a small smile when Liam turns to see him.

“Good game today.” Liam says with a smile and Harry knows he means it. He’s always so fucking sincere.

“Thanks, why didn’t you come back to the barns with Zayn? He said you just came back here by yourself.” Harry doesn’t even know why he’s asking, he knows that Liam knows that Harry is off with him, at odds, but he pries anyway.

“I figured you would rather I didn’t. I don’t know what I’ve done but you’re cross with me.”

For some reason, Harry decides denial is the only option at this point. “No, I’m not, I’m just –”

“Yes you are, I can tell, I can feel it.”

“Liam it’s not something you’ve –”

“Harry, for fuck’s sake! Stop it! Stop trying to preserve my feelings and tell me what’s the matter.”

He tries to stop the words bubbling up in his throat, tries to swallow them back down but he can’t. “It’s Louis. It’s you and Louis. It’s all your moping because you miss him. Because you can’t see him over Christmas break. Because you’re lonely and tired of sleeping alone. It’s driving me mental, it’s fucking pathetic Liam honestly, it’s like you can’t survive without him, can’t function without him and it makes me want to fucking scream.”

His chest is heaving when he’s finished, his voice had risen louder than he’d intended but he’d been holding all that in for far too long. Liam’s glaring at him when he finally sees through his anger induced haze and the euphoria of finally letting it all out is sinking into fear.

Liam stalks towards him, nostrils flared and Harry backs up until the backs of his knees hit the frame of his bed.  Liam’s fists fly up suddenly and Harry flinches, thinking that Liam’s going to hit him. Instead Liam twists his fist into the front of Harry’s shirt and yanks, pulling Harry closer.

“You’re a miserable, insufferable twat, do you know that? You have a problem with my commitment to Louis and yet you have none. Are you jealous that I have somebody to miss while you wallow in your own self-pity?”

Harry shakes off Liam’s hands, “Fuck you, this has nothing to do with my personal life. Mine’s not on display every waking hour of the day like yours.”

“It’s not on display because you don’t have one. I’ve talked to Niall, to Zayn, when’s the last time you were serious about someone Harry? Honestly, you’re just whore.”

Something snaps inside Harry, rage builds deep in his gut and he spins on his heel before pushing back at Liam. He locks his hands tight around Liam’s biceps and shoves him into the wall. His breath is ragged, teeth bared as he all but growls, “You know nothing about my personal life. Never have I once since we’ve lived together brought someone here.” He pushes harder at Liam’s arms just to watch him wince, “and it’s none of your fucking business who or how often I fuck.”

“When’s the last time you had sex Harry?” Liam’s voice is degrading, taunting him.

“It’s none of your concern.”

“A while huh? On a bit of a dry spell are we?”

Harry’s got a quick witted retort on the tip of his tongue but it gets swallowed because Liam moves, pushes them even closer together and then he’s kissing Harry, hard and fast with too much teeth and tongue and Harry’s mind short circuits. His grip loosens on Liam’s arms and Liam takes advantage. He grabs at Harry’s waist, pushes him towards his bed and down onto it.

“Liam what the fuck –” he tries but Liam’s on him again, pushing his tongue into Harry’s mouth and holding him down. Harry fights under Liam’s hold until he realizes he doesn’t want to. This feeling, of Liam manhandling him, pushing him and biting him and calling him a whore is intoxicating, his cock is swelling quickly in his breeches, and he whines softly as Liam nips at his tongue.

It’s a scramble to get out of their clothes fast enough and then Liam’s digging around in his nightstand for lube and Harry’s far too gone now to try and stop it. His self-control flew out the window apparently along with Liam’s mind.

“Turn over,” Liam says when he finds the bottle and his voice is absolutely wrecked. Harry complies quickly, settling onto his hands and knees and his muscles flex when Liam lays his hand at the base of Harry’s spine. “You have been fucked before haven’t you, you slut?”

Harry whimpers at the use of the demeaning word, “Yes.” he manages to spit out and then Liam’s fingers are pushing in, two right off the bat and Harry gasps, the sharp burn snaking up his spine.

“Fuck you’re tight, thought someone as used as you would be looser.”

“I’m not a fucking floozy you cunt.”

Liam thrusts his fingers in harder in response, catching at Harry’s prostate and Harry’s whole body trembles at the sensation. He rocks his hips back against Liam’s fingers in search of that feeling again. Liam snickers at how desperate the simple act has turned Harry. He’s ruthless now, rubbing hard over Harry’s prostate and Harry’s eyes roll back in his head, heat pinching and curling low and fast, thighs and stomach trembling as Liam doesn’t let up. His cock is twitching constantly, full and thick and almost purple at the head as it hangs between his thighs.

His balls are heavy already and he knows he’s close. It’s been over four months since he last had sex and almost eight since he’d let someone fuck him and his body is spiraling towards finish faster than normal. Liam picks up on it, pulls his fingers out, ignoring the whine from Harry at the loss, and slicks up his cock. The obscene wet sound is almost deafening in the quiet room and Harry pushes his arse back, greedy for more.

Liam’s hands are tight when they lock around Harry’s hips and pull him back, a slight nudge and then Liam’s pushing in steadily until he’s fully sheathed. He forces Harry’s legs further apart, dropping his body closer to the mattress and he drapes his body over Harry’s. His hands lock over the back of Harry’s hands and his lips are so close to Harry’s ear he can feel them move as he speaks, “You’re either coming untouched or you’re going to have to wait to finish until after I have.”

Harry tests Liam’s hands on him, tries to pull away but Liam’s hold is strong and Harry can see the tendons in the back of his hands working as he keeps Harry’s hands locked underneath his own.

“Now be a good little slut.” Liam chuckles darkly and Harry rolls underneath him, trying to knock him off but Liam’s strong and with the tiniest twitch of his hips, his cock is skimming against Harry’s prostate and the tension drains from Harry’s body as a wanton moan leaves his lips. “There, that’s better.”

“Stop fucking talking.” Harry growls as he circles his hips back expectantly and Liam finally gives him what he wants. Liam snaps his hips forward with power, enough so that all the air in Harry’s lungs leaves him with a loud whoosh.

Liam’s hands curl into Harry’s, twining their fingers together and digging the pads of his fingertips into Harry’s palm.

Liam fucks into him hard and fast, teeth dragging and digging into the meat of his shoulder and Harry’s arms are shaking under him from the exertion, from the need of friction. His cock is dripping, ruddy and swollen and he wants is to get hand around himself so he can come. He’s shaking against Liam’s tortuous pace, sensitive enough to cry out every time Liam thrusts back in and his cockhead brushes over Harry’s prostate, quick and rough.

“Fuck, _Liam please._ ”

“Oh? Does my little cockslut want to come?”

“Yes” he hisses, too aroused to call Liam out for the shamming.

The pressure Liam has on Harry’s hands loosens before he pulls them away and grips onto Harry’s waist. Harry moves quickly to shift his weight but Liam grabs at his wrists. “Don’t touch yourself.” He squeezes harder to emphasize his point and Harry grimaces a bit under his hold but nods.

Liam pulls out slowly, watching as he slips from Harry’s reddened hole. “No,” Harry gasps, “don’t stop.”

“Shut up.” Liam mumbles before he flicks his thumb into Harry’s entrance and holds him open as he starts to jerk himself off quickly. Harry whimpers, folding down on his forearms as Liam presses and probes at the used skin.

Harry can hear Liam grunting, the wet sound of his fist working over his cock and his muscles are all pulled tight because he can’t touch himself and the sounds alone are bringing him closer. Liam moans suddenly, low and loud and Harry feels the splash of warmth against his crack, over his hole and he whines, pushing back towards it.

Liam’s breathing heavily, fingers rubbing his come into Harry’s skin and Harry can’t take it. “ _Liam_ please.”

“Get on your back.”

Harry moves easily with Liam’s strong hand on his hip, his muscles sore and tired. His curls fan out around his face as he drops back against the pillow and Liam kneels over him, looks down his body to see the way his cock is curved up towards his stomach, angry looking, “So hard for me.” Liam murmurs and he likes when Harry shivers in reaction to his words.

Liam reaches down and takes hold of Harry’s cock, feels the hot skin pulse under his touch and with just a few quick tugs Harry’s curling up towards him, fingernails digging into Liam’s shoulder as his cock pumps out come onto his tummy and over Liam’s fist. Harry’s eyes are wide, shining darker green and his mouth hangs open as Liam milks him and he doesn’t let up until Harry’s gasping sounds of pleasure turn into tiny whines of protest.

Liam flops down next to Harry, all loose limbed and flushed. Harry’s heartbeat is pounding in his ears and he shivers as the oscillating fan blows cool air over his heated skin. Liam reaches a hand across Harry’s body and grabs his discarded t-shirt, before carefully wiping away the come on Harry’s stomach. Harry sucks in a sharp breath as he watches Liam carefully reach lower and wipe away the remnants of himself in between Harry’s thighs.

“Sorry,” Liam whispers when Harry lets a tiny whine slip, still sensitive.

Liam tosses the dirty shirt in the direction of his hamper before kissing Harry softly on the cheek and getting up. Dressing quickly, he leaves one heavily worded look in Harry’s direction and the door closes. The kiss feels bitter.

+

He wakes up to his phone ringing and ringing and ringing and he knows it’s Niall without even looking at the caller id.

“What?”

“What the hell are you doing? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for almost an hour.”

“Why didn’t you just come get me?”

“We ran into Liam and he said you were exhausted so I figured we’d just met up with you once you’d had your beauty sleep. You’re a piss ant to try and wake up anyway.”

“Is Liam with you?”

“No he said he was going out with a buddy of his, um Aaron? No Adam.” Harry can hear Zayn something off in the distance, “Andy! Yeah it was Andy. We told him to come meet up with us later but he was in a weird mood so I don’t know. Enough with that though, get your skinny arse dressed and come find us.”

Harry groans, still slightly sleep ridden and as he rolls onto his stomach soreness spikes in his backside. His cock twitches as he remembers why and he rubs a hand over his face because he feels like a massive twat. “I don’t know Niall –”

“No! No no no, we just won the biggest match of the year today, there is no way in hell I’m letting you stay in tonight.”

Harry winds up going out, of course he does, Niall, being the master coercer he is, talked him into it. He drinks too much, sings too much, dances too much and is properly smashed by the time Zayn is laying him down in his bed.

Liam’s not around his drunken mind notices, didn’t come find them at the house party, isn’t back in their room now and Harry wouldn’t pout it’s just he’s well past drunk now and has no control over his mind to mouth filter.

“Where’s Leeyum, he’s not here and he’s always here and whyyyyy isn’t he here Z?” Harry whines, flailing a bit as he does his best to sit on his bed.

Zayn smiles, shaking his head at the current state of his friend, “He’s probably staying with that Andy bloke, I’m sure he’ll be back in the morning.”

Harry huffs, bottom lip jutting out, “Do you think he’s fucking ‘em?”

Zayn laughs drily, “Um no, I’m sure they’re not fucking.”

Harry sniffs and nods his head, doing his best to shake out his hair in his current state of inebriation. “Good.”

Zayn eyes him curiously but Harry’s drunken mind doesn’t catch it. “Right, well go to bed Haz, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harry sighs happily as he sinks down into the blankets and cuddles his extra pillow up to his tummy. “Night Zayn.” He mumbles, already slipping off to sleep.

+

Harry wakes up with a dry mouth, a queasy stomach, and the worst headache he’s had in years. Also, a very empty room and he can’t stop himself from thinking that Liam is avoiding him, which, well he can see why, but it’s a bit immature and Harry had expected something more from Liam. He’s just not sure what.

It turns into a giant avoidance dance from there on out, mostly on Liam’s part but a little on Harry’s because he’s being ignored so he ignores the fact he’s being ignored and ignores Liam completely. He’ll come back from practice and Liam will be out with Andy. Liam will be in the room studying and Harry make it a point to stay in Niall’s room as long as possible (much to Zayn’s announce because it’s a lot harder to have sex with Harry in the room). And it’s actually working well for Harry because he reads like an open book, wears his heart on his sleeve, emotions in his eyes and he doesn’t need Liam to know this is bugging him, he doesn’t need Liam to know that this is eating at him, that it’s on his mind at all.

Because it’s not.

Until it is.

+

Harry’s not sure why he let Josh drag him to this frat house. There’s some shitty techno music playing way too loud to properly hear anyone, all the beer in this house is warm, he’s positive every guy here is straight and all the girls here are those straight guy’s girlfriends. Someone’s smoking shit weed as well, the smell is hanging heavy in the air and there’s no way to escape it because it’s damn near zero outside so no one will let him open the window. He’s hungry as hell now too because he’s sure he’s gotten some contact high after being locked in this house for so many hours.

He’s in a pissy mood, he knows he is but that’s not going to stop himself from wallowing because it’s been almost three weeks and he and Liam still haven’t spoken.

The speakers scratch out suddenly and _Fat Lip_ starts blaring through and well, at least the music has improved. Someone starts chanting beer bong as they walk in the front door, a tall guy with dark dirty blonde hair that’s slicked back and Harry can’t tell if it’s holding in place due to hair gel or if it’s just that greasy. He’s wearing some tee that’s got the arms cut out which is ridiculous because it’s freezing outside and Harry figures this guy might as well have a neon flashing light above his head saying _douchebag_ because it’d be less obvious that way.

Someone trots in after Master Douche, he’s bundled up, pulling his coat tight around his chest and he closes the door before pulling his beanie off his head. Harry’s heart stops, breath catching in his throat for a few slow seconds before time speeds back up to normal pace and he’s locking gazes with Liam.

He swallows hard before waving awkwardly because honestly he probably does have a good high going on and well... he’s missed Liam. Liam gives him a bit of a tight lipped smile before returning with his own equally as awkward wave. He gathers up what courage he’s secondhandly breathed in tonight and makes his way towards Liam. Liam looks resistant but doesn’t move from where he’s rooted into the floor boards and let’s Harry makes his way to him.

“Hi,” Harry says, as loud as possible so Liam has a chance of hearing him.

Liam nods, mouths back a ‘hi’ before pointing to the King of Douchebags, “This is Andy.” He yells, moving his head closer towards Harry’s.

Harry ‘ahh’s, making a move to shake ~~douchebag’s~~ Andy’s hand but Andy just pushes past him, yelling something about shots and heading into a different room.

“Look, can we go somewhere and talk?” Liam bites his lip and Harry knows he’s trying to figure a way to politely say no. “Please, I just want to clear things up.” He tries and Liam’s hesitancy crumbles. He gestures to let Harry lead the way and Harry just starts heading upstairs because it’s got to quieter up there than it is down here.

He tries the first room on his left and walks into a bathroom, and well, that’ll work.

He starts talking before Liam has the door properly shut, “Look Liam, I’m sorry for what I said about you and Louis, it’s none of my business and I don’t know why it even bugged me so much.”

Liam sighs heavily, resting back against the door.

“I just – I’m sick of this ignoring each other stuff and I want to go back to way things were –”

“The way things were? Harry you know there’s absolutely no way we can go back to the way things were.”

“What? No –”

“You haven’t realized why my relationship drives you crazy? Why even the mention of Louis’s name sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you?”

Harry sort of gapes at that, unable to find words so Liam keeps talking, “You haven’t figured out why I’ve been distancing myself from you for nearly three weeks? Haven’t figured out why it’s so fucking difficult to be in the same room with you for more than a few minutes?”

“I – you’re ignoring me because – because you cheated on your boyfriend with me.” And that’s the first time since that Harry’s fully acknowledged it even happened.

Liam rubs at the bridge of his nose, crease lines painting themselves across his forehead, “Yes, but that’s not the only reason. I was a good boyfriend before you, faithful, loving, supportive. And then I meet you and everything falls to shit. You’re nice and pretty and you ride horse and fuck I never thought that would be something that would turn me on but it does. Your stupid hair and your stupid smile and your stupid dimples and your fucking _eyes_ Harry,” Liam pushes himself of the door slowly, stalking towards Harry, “you’re the embodied form of sin,” Harry backs up until he hits the counter and there’s nowhere else to go, “and as much as I wish I could, I can’t stop myself from thinking about you. All spread out for me, moaning and shaking and coming.” Harry shivers as Liam’s breathe ghosts over his ear.

“We shouldn’t.” Harry tries, voice barely making it over a whisper.

Liam smiles maliciously, “Hmm, I’m not sure your cock feels the same way.” He says, fingers snaking up underneath Harry’s shirt and skidding along the fine line of hair that leads into his trousers. Harry’s hard already, his jeans doing absolutely nothing to hide it and as much as he wants to deny Liam there’s also another part, a louder part, that wants this all to happen again.  

Liam drags the zip of Harry’s fly down slowly, giving him time to stop this, say he doesn’t want it but all he can manage is a low whine as the teeth of the zipper drag over his swollen cock. Liam’s lips are gentle as they sponge across Harry’s neck and he slowly pushes Harry’s jeans down around his thighs.

“Turn around for me pet,” and Harry must be higher than he thought because Liam did not just call him pet and his cock most definitely did not twitch at the thought of Liam _actually_ calling him pet. Harry does as he’s told none the less, and Liam reaches over his shoulder to dig into the medicine cabinet. He pulls out a tub of Vaseline and slides his fingers under the elastic of Harry’s underwear before pulling them down and settling them around his thighs alongside his jeans.

Liam circles a lubricated finger around Harry’s entrance before pushing in slowly. Harry’s stomach jumps at the sensation and lets his hips grind back against Liam’s finger. “I’ve thought about this every night Harry. How tight and hot you are, all the sounds you make while I fuck you, the way your voice breaks when you come.”

Harry can’t really keep up after that, his mind fuzzes out and it’s all a blur of whimpers and grunts and Liam’s cock hitting at the perfect angle. His knees buckle when he comes, shaking with the force of it but Liam’s a sturdy embrace behind him, arm wrapped around his waist to keep him standing.

He doesn’t particularly remember leaving the party after that either, high off either the sex or the shitty weed or more than likely a combination of both but he knows he and Liam leave together. Knows he stumbles into his bed with Liam right behind, and he knows he falls asleep with Liam at his side, legs tangled together and noses rubbing against cheeks.

They wake up even more tangled together, legs and arms and bodies. It’s a small bed and Liam’s almost on top of Harry but there’s no complaining, just soft touches and light, hesitant kisses that soon turn a bit more desperate and Harry can’t stop himself from twitching his hips against Liam in hope for friction.

Liam chuckles softly into Harry’s neck but teasingly he wraps a fist around Harry’s hard length. He brings Harry off slowly, swallowing down all of his moans and whines as they kiss, letting Harry spill across his stomach.

Somehow or another, it becomes a thing after that.

+

They wind up on the fourth floor lounge a few Friday nights later, all four of them sprawled out across different sofas and half paying attention to the Michigan game on tv. Harry’s trying harder to make it look like he doesn’t want to rip Liam’s clothes off and let him have his way with him.

“Wait, so why didn’t we go out tonight?” Niall asks from where he’s currently shoved between the sofa and Zayn’s side. It’s sickeningly cute.

“Because we’ve had two-a-days for the past week, because Zayn’s getting sick because…” Harry swallows hard around the words he tries to say and glances over at Liam. Liam’s looking over at him and they lock eyes for a second before Liam’s looking away and finishing Harry’s sentence.

“Because I’ve got date night tonight.” He says, a pang of guilt lacing his words.

Harry makes it a point to stay with Niall and Zayn for as long as possible, even following them back to Niall’s room, because he’s struggling with his own self-loathing and the fact that _he’s_ the other man and the fact that Liam is still with Louis and more than he dares think about, it’s most likely that Liam won’t ever end things with Louis to be with him. At that thought his heart clenches so tight in his chest he feels like he can’t breathe, like the world’s crumbling in around him and he hates himself for getting wrapped up in all of this, for even letting this happen in the first place.

He’s no choice but to head back to his room when Niall deliberately kicks him out and locks the door. He walks as slow as possible down the flight of stairs because besides the fact it’s been almost two hours since Liam left, he knows he and Louis have talked for longer.

He opens his door and in that moment would rather deep throat a knife then step another foot inside because Liam is still talking to Louis, but not on the phone, of course not, they’re on webcam and Harry is met with Louis’s stupidly smiley face, all blue eyes and sunny disposition emanating from a fucking screen for Christ’s sake.

Louis waves politely and Harry wants to throw himself off a bridge as he waves back. Liam smiles at him, larger than he should and there’s too much empathy in his eyes and Harry just mumbles about being tired and not feeling the greatest before diving face first onto his bed and burying himself under the covers.

“I’ll let you go Li,” Louis says.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“I love you Liam.” Louis says, but there’s something in his voice that Harry’s never heard before and he purposefully shoves his fingers in his ears to stop from hearing Liam say it back. He leaves them there longer than probably necessary but he needs full certainty that Liam’s offline with Louis before he lets himself hear again.

His blankets are pulled back then but he doesn’t bother moving, just pulls his fingers out of his ears. Liam shuffles in next to him and Harry makes room for him, ignoring the feelings of guilt and comfort that are mixing up together in his stomach.

“I am going to leave Louis, I just – I can’t do it over the computer can I? It seems so immature, I want to face him when I end it.”

Harry wants to ask what his idea is then, when he plans on doing this, how, why, what his feeling are towards Harry but he can’t. He’s scared of the truth and there’s comfort in the lie. Because right now, whether Liam actually means to ever break up with Louis or not, he’s wrapped around Harry right now, breathe ghosting over Harry’s neck and lips sliding along his shoulder and in this moment, that’s enough.

+

Christmas break comes before anyone’s really expecting it and Harry winds up staying on campus because they’ve got a game the first day back and he and Niall have practice up until then. Zayn’s family flies him back home for the holidays and Liam heads down to Boston to spend the three weeks with his sister.

Harry convinces Niall to just stay in his and Liam’s room with him because they’re going to be spending all their free time together as it and Harry never really liked having the room to himself anyway.

“Will you please come cuddle with me? I don’t like sleeping alone.” Harry whines, making an act of tossing and turning as Niall does his best to ignore him.

“Harry, I can barely tolerate sleeping with Zayn and he’s my boyfriend, there’s no way that we’re cuddling.”

“Liam cuddles with me.”

“Yeah well I think Liam fancies you so…”

Harry’s heart stop and he swallows wrongs, “You – what?” he coughs. “He’s got a boyfriend.”

Niall scoffs, “You can think someone is attractive and get on with them and still be in a relationship Haz, it’s not like he’s cheating on Louis.”

Harry’s mouth dries out completely, “Yeah, right, of course.”

Niall rolls over on Liam’s bed and looks over at Harry, “You think he’s fit don’t you?”

“I – well he’s – um he’s – nice to um, look at.” Niall laughs, so hard he’s curling in on himself and well now Harry feels slightly offended. “What?”

“Harry, god, is it so hard for you to admit you think he’s cute? I mean shit, you’d of thought I was asking if you two have fucked.” Niall laughs harder at that and Harry’s very thankful that the room is dark so Niall can’t see his face.

He does his best to laugh and by some higher power, Niall buys it. “Yeah, ha ha, funny.”

He doesn’t sleep at all that night and finally gives up entirely on trying at half past six. He doesn’t even bother dressing out of his pajama pants, and just throws on a heavy sweatshirt before heading down to his car.

Ten miles due south and he’s at the barn, there are a few cars in the parking lot, it’s feeding time after all and Harry walks in with a few hellos to the barn workers. Max’s stall already has new bedding and his feeders overflowing and there’s no hope of Harry getting attention anytime within the next twenty minutes but that’s okay.

He lets himself inside before sliding the stall door closed again and with a flick of his ear, Max acknowledges him. He slumps down into the hay and lets the smell of the fresh straw surround him. He doesn’t think of anything in particular for a long moment, instead the sound of Max eating and the shuffle of a few other people and horses fills his mind.

He tries to keep himself from thinking about Liam, from thinking about what Niall had said last night because if he does start thinking about it, he’ll spill his heart to Max and once it’s said it out loud it becomes real. He takes a deep shuddering breath and he’s on the verge of tears but he’s not going to cry, at least not until he has Max’s attention.

He teeters on the edge of sanity for the longest ten minutes of his life before Max moves slowly over to him and drops his head down to snort into Harry’s shoulder. His resilience falls and as Max stares at him with those big brown eyes, Harry cries.

“I’m so fucking stupid Max,” He whispers, voice wet as the tears cycle down his cheeks. “I’ve let myself fall into this web of lies and I think I’m in love with him and he’s not going to leave Louis for me. That never happens, the other person never wins in situations like this and I hate myself for letting this happen. Letting myself fall for someone who isn’t going to catch me, and I’m – I’m a whore.”

Max nuzzles into his shoulder and Harry reaches up to rub at Max’s ears.

“Promise to still love me after all this, even though I’m a giant fucking wanker and probably don’t deserve it?”

Max takes a deep breath and makes a tiny noise in the back of his throat and that’s good enough for Harry.

“Thanks buddy,” He murmurs into Max’s cheek.

He spends the next few hours at the barn, grooming Max and feeding him carrots and picking his hooves and it’ almost ten when he leaves. He feels better, for what it’s worth, to have at least gotten it off his chest in some way. Liam comes back next week and Harry’s made up his mind that he’s not going to continue this until Liam breaks it off with Louis, he’s not going to be the other man anymore.

That mentality goes straight out the window when he comes back to his dorm and Niall tells him he’s got three missed calls and a text saying _I miss youuuu :(((( xx_ all from Liam. Niall gives him as much of a skeptical gaze as he can muster at half past ten in the morning on a Sunday but the message gets across.

“We’re cuddle buddies.” Harry says, keeping his gaze on his phone as he thumb hovers over the call button. He’s sure Niall gives him a pointed look but he can’t be arsed with Niall’s incredulous gaze. “I’m gonna call him.” He says, finally pressing the little green button.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I’m going up to my room to get some proper sleep, because I’ve been up since you left this morning and we’re talking about that later because I’d like to know where you’ve been the past four hours, don’t think I didn’t notice Styles.” Niall’s accent is thick as he makes his way towards the door, grumbling nonsense with a blanket that Harry’s sure is Liam’s wrapped around his torso. “I’ll come find you once I’ve gotten my proper amount of beauty sleep.”

He mumbles something else but Liam’s picked up on the other end and Harry doesn’t care what Niall has to say anymore.

“Hi.” Liam says, a smile evident in his voice.

“Hey.” Harry says, smiling himself.

“I didn’t wake you did I? I just really wanted to talk to you and then after I’d called three times and sent a text I glanced at the clock and realized it was rather early for a Sunday.”

“No, I wasn’t in the room, went and saw Max this morning, cleared my head.”

The conversation shifts, Harry can feel it and Liam sighs, “Sometimes I think that horse takes better care of you then I’d ever hope to.”

Questions bounce around in Harry’s mind, all at once and he can’t pick one that needs to be asked first so Liam keeps talking. “I tried talking to Louis again, to go over and see him over break but he was so stubborn, said I couldn’t and that was final. I wanted to end it over break to start things with you the right way but – god he gets so set in his ways sometimes there’s no changing his mind, he’s like a fucking mule.”

Harry snorts a laugh and he can almost hear Liam perk up a bit at the sound, “They’re stubborn aren’t they?”

Harry nods but realizes Liam can’t see him, “Yes, they are.”

“You know, I was thinking, if you’d like, I could come back before next Sunday, maybe you know, like today, or tomorrow or whatever.”

“Yes! I mean um,” He clears his throat, “Yeah, whatever you wanna do is fine, tomorrow is fine, today is better but –”

“Right, I’m gonna pack up, I’ll see you in six hours!”

+

“So Liam’s coming back a week earlier than he’d said because he misses _cuddling_ with you?”

“It’s not – we’re just really close, he’s a good friend of mine.”

“And what am I? Chopped liver?”

“You won’t cuddle with me.”

“Because I have a boyfriend and I hate cuddling as it is.”

“Yes but – just go away, he’ll be here soon.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do now that your roommate that you’re weirdly obsessed with is back?”

“Josh, he’s around, go drink with him, or Ed, I don’t know. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow. Liam and I have catching up to do.”

Harry tires to shove Niall out of the room but Niall moves his foot to stop Harry from shutting the door and pushes hard to keep it open. “Okay no, what the hell is going on with you two? He has a boyfriend Harry, or have you forgotten that fact? You know, that thing that used to drive you mental?”

A thought passes through Niall’s mind and Harry can see the ideas clicking over on his facial features, “Unless, are he and Louis having a rough patch? Are they thinking about breaking up? You dog, playing on his weaknesses so he’ll sleep with you once he’s single!”

Harry blatantly ignores answering all of the questions, “Like you didn’t do worse when you were single!”

Niall narrows his eyes, because Niall’s admitted he’s not proud of what he used to do for a lay and he’s kept those moves secret even from Zayn. “I’m watching you Haz and don’t do anything single Niall wouldn’t do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry agrees even though he’s positive he’s already done something single Niall wouldn’t do.

He feels as giddy as he did on his birthday when he was younger or Christmas morning and this is all because he’s going to see someone he hasn’t seen in two weeks and it’s absolutely ridiculous. His cheeks feel like they’re going to crack by the time Liam’s letting himself inside and his smile is just as wide as Harry’s.

Liam drops his bag by the door and Harry meets him halfway, wrapping his arms around Liam’s shoulders and pulling him into a kiss. Liam cradles Harry’s jaw, fingers stroking softly across his cheeks and rubbing his nose against Harry’s because they’re both smiling to wide to properly kiss for too long.

“I missed you.” Liam breaths, lips rubbing softly against Harry’s as he speaks.

Harry nods, pecking Liam lightly before agreeing. They fall into bed soon after, trading kisses and orgasms and soft touches and that keeps up for days. They come up for air only to get food and for Harry to go to practice, but it’s a routine that keeps up until Friday.

The match on the first day back into the new semester is against Colorado State and is at Colorado State. Harry and Niall don’t complain, they get a free pass for missing class from Coach Beck and they get the bonus of not going class the first two days. It’s a long flight and the horses don’t fly with them and Harry gets some real problem child of a horse and they wind up losing the match by a point and what was looking like a great start to the semester turned sour rather quickly.

“It’s so stupid,” Harry says as he nose dives into his bed while Niall plops down on Liam’s bed, screaming into pillow as Zayn gets up from the bean bag chair and rubs at his back. “I mean, the horses don’t get to travel with us, what do they expect to happen? They’re lucky we only lost that match by a point because I was expecting much worse.”

“Yeah,” Niall agrees, “What’s the fucking point of bringing our own horses here if we can’t ride them all season, I mean, isn’t that the point of fucking boarding them here in the first place? Christ!” Zayn coos something mushy into Niall’s ear, rubbing his fingers through Niall’s hair and Niall visible relaxes.

Harry flails a bit on his bed and nearly kicks Liam in the face when he comes over to sit next to him. “I’m sorry you had a shitty time.” Liam says, rubbing at Harry’s shoulders and Harry gives easily. He rolls onto his side and opens his arms, asking silently and Liam chuckles quietly before wrapping Harry up in his arms.

It’s intimate, even more so with the two set of eyes he can feel on them but Harry doesn’t acknowledge it and Liam either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Instead he cards his fingers through Harry’s thick curls and Harry falls loose and pliant into his side, practically purring.

Zayn makes an excuse for the both them quickly but Harry’s not listening. He’s knows they’re speculating, that something isn’t adding up to them but he can’t bring himself to care. Not with Liam warm and strong at his side, smelling faintly of his Nautica cologne and humming into Harry’s ear.

+

Looking back on this, it was bound to happen. Niall can only handle not knowing something for so long before he finds out some way or another, usually just stumbling upon it and with that track record, Harry really should have seen it coming.

Harry’s underneath Liam, trembling and moaning but they both still have their underwear on, thank god. It doesn’t do much help though, Harry’s hard and sticky in his boxers, pleading with Liam and Liam’s just as hard for Harry but much more in control of himself and as Liam painstakingly slowly kisses his way down Harry’s torso, the door fly opens.

There’s a giant rush of commotion in just a few short seconds. Harry and Liam jump apart as if they’d been shocked, the door slams shut and Niall falls to his knees with his head in his hands cussing to high heaven.

“God damnit! I knew it, I knew there was something going on between you two but god _fucking_ damnit I didn’t want to believe it.”

“Niall –”

“What in the name of god are you two doing? What the _fuck_ are you thinking? Just – WHAT?”

“I’m going to leave Louis,” Liam says and that may not have been the best thing to lead with.

Niall makes a sound that resembles something along the lines of a growl and falls to floor. “You’re still with HIM? God I thought you two would have been smart enough to at least wait until Liam was single but FUCK!”

“Niall,” Harry tries again to just be interrupted again.

“Harry! What on earth are you thinking?” Niall asks as he sits up to look at him from the other side of Liam’s bed. “Liam’s cheating on his boyfriend with you and just – I don’t – why?”

“I –” Harry starts but he can’t, he feels like he’s drowning in words he hasn’t told Liam and he looks desperately at him for help.

“I’ll let you two talk.”

“No!” Niall shouts immediately.

“Just for a few minutes, in private, you can chew me a new one once you’ve finished with Harry but I feel you two should talk alone first. I’ll just be down the hall in the lounge.”

Niall’s lack of response doesn’t sound like agreement but his sigh is enough for Liam and he scampers out the door, still yanking on his pants. Harry curls into a small ball, all long limbs and messy hair, burying his nose in the smell of his mother’s quilt.

“What are you thinking?” Niall asks a few seconds after Liam’s shut the door.

“I think I’m in love with him.”

Niall groans and from the sounds, Harry guesses he does a bit more flopping around, before getting up and taking a seat to Harry on his bed.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Since the Yale match.”

Niall’s face scrunches up and Harry can tell he’s trying to be rational but it’s difficult when Harry’s been such a massive twat.

“How long do you think you’ve been in love with him?”

“Honestly? Probably even before the first time we had sex, it’s why Louis bugged me so much, I just – at the time, didn’t even think that could possibly be the reason.”

“I’m assuming I’m the only one that knows?” Harry nods. “Harry – I – look, I love you and I don’t want to see you get hurt. Do you really think Liam’s going leave Louis for you?”

Harry’s heart clenches tight and he can feel the sting of tears building behind his eyelids. He shrugs instead of answering because he can’t muster the strength to actually speak. Niall makes a sympathetic noise before wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist and pulling him into his side.

“What’s he told as to why he hasn’t left Louis yet?”

Harry swallows thickly, “He wants to do it in person, not over the phone or computer because he feels like that’s an immature and childish way to end a relationship.”

Niall’s fist clenches at his side and Harry can feel the way his jaw is flexing, “I’m – I need to talk to Liam.” He murmurs.

Niall dislodges himself from Harry but Harry reaches for his wrist before he can get off the bed, “This isn’t his entire fault, I’m as much to blame as he is.”

Niall rubs at his eyes, “I promise I won’t put all the blame on him, but I’m probably going to yell because Harry you’re so easy to sweep off your feet and you don’t even realize it.”

Harry opens his mouth to defend himself but Niall simply raises his hand, “I’m gonna go talk to him, I’ll come back here after or something.”

Harry slumps back against his bed in defeat and with a heavy sigh, Niall heads down the hallway to the lounge. Liam’s chewing at his fingernails when he finds him, knee bouncing a mile a minute and he freezes when he sees Niall.

“Let’s go up to my room, my roomie’s in class until seven.”

They’re quiet as they head up to the fourth floor and Liam’s nervous, he feels he’s about to be scolded and well, he probably is. “I feel like an inmate walking to the electric chair.” He jokes but Niall isn’t laughing. The look in his eye tells Liam he probably would electrocute him if he could.

“Sit,” Niall says shortly as soon as he shuts and locks the door to his room.

Liam does as Niall says and Niall resists the urge to rip his own hair out. “What the hell are you thinking? You’re in a relationship and now you’ve been cheating on your boyfriend for almost three months and god damnit Liam why?”

Liam takes a deep breath to speak but Niall cuts him off.

“Do you really plan on leaving Louis for Harry? And don’t feed me the bullshit you feed Harry to keep him around, tell me the truth.”

“Yes, I want to be with Harry.”

Niall narrows his eyes, “And yet you haven’t broken up with Louis yet?”

“Because I want to do it to his face, how immature is it to end a relationship of over a year over the phone or computer?”

“How immature is it to cheat on your boyfriend of over a year for three months because you don’t have the nerve to end things properly?”

Liam swallows hard and looks down at his hands, it’s easier than dealing with the intensity of Niall’s gaze. “Louis deserves more.” He mumbles.

“He does,” Niall agrees, “and so does Harry.”

Niall starts pacing then, thoughts kicking into overdrive, “Who’s to say that what you’ve done to Louis isn’t something you won’t do to Harry in the future, they say ‘once a cheater always cheater’ right?”

“No! I wouldn’t –”

“Wouldn’t cheat? I’m sure you thought the same thing when you first got together with Lou and now look at you! Liam I love Harry and I can tell you right now, if you break his heart I will skin you alive!”

“I won’t, I wouldn’t dream of hurting Harry.”

“You already have, think about Liam, he’s your ‘other man’, your ‘booty call’, your ‘ _whore_ ’. You don’t think it’s affected him you still being with Louis? Still telling Louis you love him?”

“I know it has, I just don’t know how to go about all this –”

“Hey, let me tell me you something, YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!”

Liam slumps in defeat, let’s his head fall into his hands and presses the heel of his palms into his eyes so hard he starts seeing stars. Niall groans from off to his left and drops down onto his bed, “Look, I can’t begin to understand what you’re dealing with, and I know it must be hard but you’re not getting sympathy from me.”

“I know, I don’t deserve it.” Liam mumbles, pressing harder at his eyes.

“I’m also not going to dictate your life because it’s none of my business but I need to know you’re really in this, in this for Harry because he’s the one I’m trying to protect. Frankly I’d like to see him rip your heart out, it’d be a nice change of pace but I’m biased. I don’t think you realize how fragile he is, I don’t _he_ realizes how fragile he is.”

“I want to try my hardest to get out of this with as little damage to Harry as possible.”

“Why?” Niall pushes.

“Because I’m falling in love with him.”

There’s silence for longer than Liam was expecting and curiously, he glances up and over at Niall. His lips are twisted up in the smallest smile Liam’s ever seen but he looks satisfied. “All right, that’s what I needed to hear.”

Liam lets himself smile for a tiny second and Niall claps, “Okay, first things first, you need to break up with Louis.”

“How?”

“As stupid as I think it is for you to wait any longer, I understand why you want to do it face to face, so obviously the next time you’d be able to just fly to England is spring break.”

“Louis was talking about coming over here for spring break.”

“No! Absolutely not! There is no way in hell Louis can fly over here just for you to dump him, you have to go to England and do it there.”

“Right, right, of course.”

“And you have to tell Harry how you feel about him. He needs to know this is the real deal because he’s fucking scared you’re not going to leave Louis. He couldn’t even answer that question when I asked.”

Liam makes a sound in the back of throat that bears a resemblance to a kicked puppy, “I’ll need to go talk to him.”

“Promise you’ll go to England over break and end it with Louis?”

Liam reaches a hand up to his heart and with his finger draws an X, “I promise.”

“Promise you’ll do your absolutely best to not hurt Harry?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“Okay then, go talk to him.”

Harry’s cuddled under his covers when Liam finds him, he’s sleeping, lips slightly parted and he looks so young, innocent and Liam’s never wanted more then to protect Harry from everything that could possibly cause him pain.

“Hey babe,” he breaths and as gently as possibly, he slides in next to Harry, winding his arms around his waist and Harry complies easily, rolling with the pull of Liam’s arms and melting into his side.

“Liam?” he asks, voice soft and tired.

Liam kisses his forehead, stroking his unruly curls away from his face. “Niall and I came to the decision that when spring break comes, I’m going to fly to England and end things with Louis.”

Harry shifts, Liam’s words shaking away the rest of his sleep haze. “You are?”

“Yes, I’m – god Harry I’m falling for you and I want to be with you so much and I promise you, I will leave Louis.”

The sound that leaves Harry’s mouth resembles an adorable puppy squeal and his lips crash urgently against Liam’s. The kiss is so passionate and he thinks he’s trying to press the words he can never say, imprint them onto Liam. It’s so frightening, it’s overwhelming and Harry thinks the hope he’s clutching onto now is so very small. But it’s what he has right now.

+

It’s the beginning of March now, the sun’s out longer, snow is melting in good proportions and the end of the semester is on the horizon. Everyone’s courses are getting heavier though, Harry feels swamped with quizzes and papers and exams but it’s better than having too much free time, too much time to sit and think.

Liam’s this weird ball of mixed emotions as well. He’s excited than he’s anxious, nervous than happy, gloomy than he’s laughing. It’s making Harry’s head spin. But this is why he’s focusing on his course load, keeps his head in a better place because if he didn’t, he’s sure he’d be just as up and down as Liam.

He tries to not dwell on the fact that he’s breaking them up, that he’s the reason Louis is going to have a broken heart. He kind of hates himself when he thinks about it like that. Liam’s good at keeping him feel wanted however, promises him that this is right and even though they’ve gone about this whole situation arse backwards, it’s going to be okay and Harry believes him.

“Hey!” Liam says, waving his hand in front of Harry’s face and Harry snaps back from his thoughts. “Ya all right?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, fine.”

Liam gives him a sympathetic smile and sweeps his thumb across Harry’s cheek before he cups his jaw lightly and gives him a quick peck on the lips. Harry sighs into the feeling of Liam’s lip against his own and moves his head to follow Liam’s when he starts pull away, silently pleading for more.

“Kiss me,” he whines when Liam stands back up.

“I just did, besides, I think you’re supposed to be studying.”

“I was studying and then you distracted me with the shortest kiss the world has ever seen and I want another one, a proper one.”

“Fine,” Liam groans, as if it’s some giant chore to kiss Harry when they both know that’s bollocks.

Liam fits himself between Harry’s thighs but Harry’s not having it. He reaches his hands up to Liam’s thighs and pulls Liam into straddling him, pulling their hips together and tilting his head up. Liam grumbles something about Harry being _impossible_ but he’s smiling and leans down to kiss Harry correctly this time despite himself.

Harry licks across Liam’s bottom lip, a tiny aborted noise escaping his throat as Liam’s teeth drag across his tongue and he slowly sucks it into his mouth and Harry’s hips twitch up with interest. Liam snickers something amused before tangling his fingers in Harry’s hair and pulling his head back, kissing him harder and letting their tongues slide against each other.

The door opening shakes through the haze of lust that’s beginning to descend upon Harry’s mind and he groans as Liam slowly pulls away, “God damnit Niall.” He growls.

But instead of the typical Niall response that he’s expecting, cussing and limb flailing before slamming the door and yelling on the other side of it, there comes a gasp and a “Oh my god,” that is most definitely not Niall’s voice.

Liam pushes up from Harry so fast he loses balance before falling flat on his arse and Harry’s meet with the shocked expression on Louis’s face.

“Louis!” Liam exclaims as he gets back to his feet and the phrase _if looks could kill_ comes to Harry’s mind because the expression on Louis face reads that he’d like to slaughter the both of them. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to surprise you.” Louis responds, voice gone monotone.

“Louis I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t do it over the phone, I was going to wait until spring break when I was flying back home to see you.”

Louis purses his lips together and looks between the two of them before locking his gaze on Harry. “How long?”

“November.” Liam says and Harry wishes he could shrink away from Louis’s gaze.

“And you thought not to tell me because you didn’t want to do it over the phone.” Louis nods as if it makes the most sense in the world and Harry feels the calm before the storm slowly flitting away.

“Look Louis, let’s just talk in private,”

Harry nods quickly, “I’ll give you space.”

Harry’s movements are slow and sluggish and he avoids eye contact with Louis as he moves to the door. Maybe that’s why he didn’t see Louis flit towards him.

Louis’s fist catches perfectly under Harry’s left eye and Harry can barely feel the sharp sting of pain, stumbling backwards until there’s another precise hit, cuffing his jaw and he can feel the bone crack a little. His hand barely has a second to reach the tender area till Louis is looming over him and with a final punch to his gut, Harry falls to his knees with a sharp groan.

“Harry!” Liam yells, voice gone slightly high pitch due to panic. He pushes himself between Louis and Harry and lays his hands softly on Harry’s wrists, “Are you okay?” He asks, pulling gently to get a look at Harry’s face. 

“I’ll be fine.” Harry whispers.

“I fucking knew it, I should have guessed but I guess I gave you the benefit of the fucking doubt hey? You lying sack of shit Liam, I trusted you.” The worst part is, Louis’s anger is real but it doesn’t hide the betrayal and mistrust as his voice breaks on the last word.

Liam’s weak “I’m sorry” is genuine but Louis’s eyes are sharp and steely and suddenly the atmosphere is too thick; too much.

“Sorry, right. Of course. Well Liam this is done, it’s fucking over and I really goddamn hope that the whore was worth it.”

Harry’s entire frame flinches at the word, disgusting and vile in his ears. He can feel the swelling around his eye socket and he knows that the bruising won’t visually justify the pain and his temporary blindness. He rests against Liam’s desk, feeling a little faint and when Liam speaks, the conviction of it makes Harry jump, “I’m sorry for the way I went about this but I won’t ever apologize for Harry. Not for meeting him or rooming with him or falling in love with him and you have no right to call him a whore. I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you Louis, what I’ve done to us, but it’s Harry I want. And I won’t apologize for that.”

Louis’s sigh is heavy and he blinks back the burning in his eyelids. “I should have known that you were unhappy and I just, I thought I was enough to make you stay but distance never works and Liam, this is fucked up. This is so fucked up.”

He tries to shake his head away from the path it’s trailing on, months and days and doubt. “I should have never come here, I’m an idiot and I just – Liam. I just can’t.”

“Louis, I’m so sorry, I am and I know you can’t believe that right now and if this is the last time I see you, I hope that you can believe this, if not today than at least someday.”

Louis to his credit, doesn’t cry. He nods, stiffly moving towards the door. His mouth opens but with a cold glance towards Harry, he shuts the door sharply behind him.

Liam moves towards their mini fridge and gathers what ice cubes have collected in the freezer before wrapping them in a flannel and moving back over to Harry.

“Are you okay?” He asks, carefully pushing the wrapped up ice cubes against Harry’s eye.

Harry nods, managing as much of a smile as he can muster. Liam leans in to lay a soft kiss on Harry’s lips and Harry can’t stop himself from whispering, “I’m in love with you.”

Liam smiles, presses in closer to Harry and brushing his thumb across Harry’s cheek. “I’m in love with you too.” And Harry likes the way those words make his heart patter wildly beneath his ribs. 


End file.
